SoMa: Souls Linked Together
by TsunTsunSama
Summary: Maka's in surgery and for whatever reason, Soul's feeling it too, which is severely uncool. A few awkward conversations later and they might be dating, maybe? A SoMa romance, maybe sort of a weird idea but I hope it's adorable. Please enjoy. Written as a series of one shots, usually focusing on a specific part of each day.
1. Medical Drama

Unwanted Author Commentary: SoMa, you may have guessed. I try and keep characters, well, in character, but that is surprisingly difficult for me. I only started writing fanfiction recently so cut me a little bit of slack if I mess someone up. But, I absolutely love writing these characters and playing off their dynamic and inner monologues. I may focus on one or the other for certain bits, but I'll try and give them roughly equal screentime. Gah. This isn't a movie. Whatever! Once we get into more... interesting relationship bits I'll start a Live Journal or something. Also, advance apologies for Soul being inappropriate.

I don't own Soul Eater, that bit's obvious. Maybe if I did I could write it better. Enjoy.

* * *

Soul was having a bad day. And by bad day, he didn't have anything trivial like a hangover, public nudity charges, or a crazy person holding a gun to his head. No, those would be normal. Those he could handle. This was far worse. Infinitely so. First off, he was in the hospital. Which, along with the rest of the sane world, made him extremely uncomfortable. Second, he was in the hospital because Maka was in surgery for a gunshot. And third? For whatever reason he was feeling every second of it. While she was asleep, he had insisted on being awake, in the hall outside.

Bad move. He feels, through the ridiculous haze of painkillers the nurses have put him on, somebody rooting around in his insides for a bullet. Of course, it isn't really him. It's Maka. Which is why it's extremely fucking uncool that he has to deal with it. He's bent over in the chair, holding his sides, confused over the whole thing and contemplating suicide when Stein walks up.

"On a scale of one to ten, how well are you feeling the current procedure." He asks without any further ado.

"I don't know. Eight. Maybe. How the hell would I have ANY reference for that?" Soul manages to growl out. He's already lost his patience somewhere around the last twenty minutes of torture and some crazy asshole mad scientist is the absolute last thing he needs to be dealing with. Why was Stein even here?

"Hmm. Very interesting. It appears you're in a surprisingly advanced stage of Constant Oscillatory Resonance Affliction. I had to investigate for myself when I heard your half of the medical report. No injuries of any sort but still in agonizing pain. The science behind this is simply fascinating..."

"You may need to dumb that down a little because I have no fucking clue what you just said."

"Ah yes. You are in some discomfort." Soul was about to put the good doctors balls in 'some discomfort' if he didn't spit out some kind of answer. "To cut to the chase, you two are resonating."

"Uh, what." Not Soul's wittiest reply ever but the response was a little odd, to say the least. Resonating? No they weren't. That was ridiculous. And would explain a lot... shit.

"You are currently experiencing a surgery that only your partner is undergoing and you didn't figure this out? You're in a decreased form of resonance. And no, it won't be going away, before you ask."

"All I know is I collapsed screaming when we were chasing after those cultists and Maka got shot. So, how. The fuck. Did this happen." Soul's thinking it through. It would make sense, but it just seems... he didn't know really. Impossible? Yeah. This coming from the guy who can change into a magic scythe. He was definitely losing it.

"To put it simply, it happened because you made Death Scythe. When your power sharply increased, so did your level of resonance, correct?"

"Mhmm. Ow! Damn." Soul grits his teeth as he feels something cold rooting around in his stomach. How many fragments can a bullet be in? This was ridiculous. And proving Stein's point. He couldn't decide which was more annoying.

"Well, in many cases, this is why Death Scythe's don't have a continual partner. This is actually a fairly common result."

"Then why didn't you say something before!" Soul practically roars. He only restrains himself to avoid disturbing the surgeons in the other room, or he would be providing them with a new patient.

"Given the recent incident with Asura, we needed you two as a team. It begins early or not at all, which is why most Death Scythes are separated from their partners once they attain that status. You, however, we needed in action."

"That was- gah! Two months ago that we beat Asura! It obviously happened sometime after because I wasn't feeling anything before!" He decides to accept the professors explanation, if only to have someone to yell at. And it isn't like this was someone sweet, like Marie. No, he could totally be pissed at Stein regret free.

"Actually, the early stages are relatively mild. It either takes a long period of time or a particularly traumatic incident to get it to noticeable levels." Just then Soul collapses forward, the cold tendrils leaving his stomach. The feeling of the stitching is almost a relief. Almost.

"So. What can we do about it." He demands. When. Was this going. To be over. And having to deal with Stein was double torture. Talking was just making him more and more pissed and he was going to _strangle_ the man if he was here a minute longer...

"Nothing, as I may have already said." The professor stands and starts to leave. Soul doesn't watch him go, doesn't really care. He has a very one track mind, and right now, all he was worried about was Maka. Sure, they had something new to deal with. It could wait. They'd deal with it and everything would turn out all right. She just needed to pull through this, and then she would have an explanation for him. She knew everything after all. After a few more minutes of white hot needles, he feels the muggy exhaustion in his head start to recede. A nurse steps out, and Soul winces at the blood on her hands. Not good. Definitely not good.

"Mr. Evans? Ms. Albarn is awake and ready to see you." Soul almost runs in as soon as the doctors file out, the nurse taking up a position by the door, tactfully closing it as he enters. Maka is propped up on the bed, looking absolutely awful. Her skin, already that of a shut in nerdy white girl, is paler than usual, and her ash blonde hair seems gray and dull. The only real color in her face are her emerald green eyes, but now they have dark, bruised circles under them. It's really the only way he can recognize this pitiful creature as his Meister. Soul feels a flood of relief as she smiles weakly, and given Stein's news he isn't really sure who it's coming from. He doesn't particularly care. At least somebody was happy.

"Hey, Soul." She mumbles as he pulls up a chair.

"Hey. Got some news for you, when you're ready." There's a flicker of unease, but she nods almost immediately. Soul starts talking, filling her in on the last day. "So you already know about getting shot."

"I may have figured something like that out, yes." Well, at least she can joke about it. If that could even be called a joke...

"Well, that did something to me to. I changed back out, felt like I was on fire. They rushed us both over here and checked us out. You had a fragmented bullet in your gut. I was completely fine. So you go into the operating room and I'm out here when Stein walks up. He claims we're stuck on some kind of permanent resonance, as a result of me becoming a Death Scythe. So I could feel you getting shot, even though normally we snap out of resonance when something like that happens." He waits for her reaction.

"So... when I was in surgery..." She mutters. Worried about him. Of course. Soul winces involuntarily at the mention of surgery, and she catches it, giving him a worried look. He waves it away. She really should _not_ be worrying about him.

"Eh. Feeling a lot better. Really. I was fine. You're the one who got shot." She knows he's just trying to reassure her, but still seems satisfied. Why the hell was he reassuring her that he was ok? He needed to be comforting **her**, dammit. Soul feels a sudden pang of hunger, but he knows it isn't from him. He managed to choke down some nasty hospital food an hour ago. Worry about her first. "You hungry?" He asks. She looks vaguely hopeful and vaguely ill.

"Uh... kinda. Not right now though. I just had somebody poking around near my stomach." She leans back into the foam mattress with a sigh. "I feel awful." But Soul is still feeling relief from her, and a warm good cheer that seems to underlie all the pain she's going through.

"You look it." He says, privately wondering whether to ask about it, and decides against it. No need to pry. Almost shyly, one of the girls hands slip out of the blanket. Their little ritual. Soul holds it firmly in both of his, dwarfing her dainty hand in his two. She's so warm and Soul feels a rush of whatever she has going on, happy and caring and so damn optimistic. Screw it. Question time. Might as well take advantage of this damn resonance.

"Alright, what are you so cheerful about." He says, half amused, expecting some dorky answer. Surprisingly, she turns pink, well, as pink as she could get with the amount of blood she's lost.

"Just... glad you're here is all." She manages. "I was really worried when I got shot and stuff and I'm just happy you're ok." But it's more than that, Soul knows it is, it's like she's on top of the fucking world right now. Granted, he's pretty happy himself. She's alright. But still, it didn't seem like her. The only time she ever seemed excited about anything was before a test or a fight. In fact, if he didn't have this new bond with her, he wouldn't know she was anything more than completely exhausted. So he shakes his head and gives her a hard stare.

"No, it's definitely something else." He's curious now, insatiably so. What was her deal? And why did he want to know so damn badly? Didn't they have other things to worry about, like, the fact she got fucking shot? Maka looks away, and almost pulls the hand out of his grasp. He's screwed up he's screwed up...

"Look, I wasn't planning to ask you yet!" She says angrily. The girl turns to give him an accusatory look. "And reading my emotions is cheating!" Soul snorts at that. Why was he being obnoxious... no no no be **nice**. Comforting. That shit.

"If I didn't cheat I'd be so far behind you I'd never catch up. Besides, it isn't like I can turn it off." Maka sighs. She knows he's right but she doesn't want to admit it.

"Fine. If you're so determined." She looks down, still blushing furiously. "Um..."

"Well, c'mon." Augh! He should be backpedaling, not demanding an answer!

"Don't rush me, ok!" Maka stares down some more at the plain white blanket across her lap. What was it, some masterpiece painting? Why wouldn't she just look up and give him an answer? And, more importantly, _why was he pushing the gunshot victim to answer some stupid question?_ "Ok. Here goes." The girl takes a deep breath. "I really like you Soul. That's what I wanted to say. That's why I feel so cheerful. Are you happy now?" She says in a rush. Finally she looks up, still not managing to meet his eyes. She keeps talking while Soul is, he doesn't know, dumbstruck. Why isn't his mouth working? "And it's been a long time but I never wanted to ask. I always had some reason not to. I mean, everyone thinks you're so cool. Half the girls I know have a crush on you and I just never thought I was your type. You're an amazing musician, you ride a motorcycle, all that stuff. I study a lot. And have teddy bears in my room. Just... I never thought you'd be interested." She's still staring somewhere around his chest, not meeting his eyes. Soul's a whirlwind of emotions, hers and his mixing together. Hope, confusion, anticipation, and anxious fear all swirling together. What should he say? How could he answer that? And, above all else, **_what_**?

"What?" His mouth says, echoing his confused brain. Another dumb response. He was really on a roll today. Maka looks down.

"Forget it."

"But-" No no. This is important. He needs to say... something.

"I said forget it!" She yells at him. Soul waits a minute, then gently starts to talk again.

"I was just really surprised is all. I mean, out of everything you could want to say that was the absolute last thing I would ever expect." He pauses, searching for what to tell her. He knows he has her attention, but he doesn't know where he's even going with this. "But don't sell yourself short. You're one of the best people I know. Smart, brave, always looking out for your friends even though your social skills are ah, sorely lacking to say the least." She glares but keeps listening, hoping so much it's painful. The hormonal maelstrom in Soul's head is slowly calming, resolving. "Half the time I wish I was someone like you. I mean, most of the time I feel like an idiot whenever you come up with some crazy plan or fact or-" He stops, realizing what he just said. "Ok, enough embarrassing myself." He says with an abashed grin. "What I'm trying to say is, if you really mean that, I don't see why the hell I would say no." There's a moment of stunned shock. Then two, then three. Soul realizes he's still holding her hand when it starts to shake, along with the rest of her. She's crying, and he has to fight back her tears himself, too mixed up in her head to do anything. Little dull noises come from the crisp cotton blanket where the salty drops hit, and awkwardly Soul attempts to hold her. Of course, this twinges the recent surgery and they both wince in pain, but she doesn't care, leaning into him and clinging fiercely. "Hey. Shh, shh shh." He feels awkward, what should he do? Soul decides on rubbing her head, tangling his fingers in her hair. After a moment she pulls away a bit, keeping his arm around her but leaning back and calming down. Some girls can cry and look adorable, but Maka isn't one of them, and her face manages to look even worse than before, which is definitely an accomplishment.

"Sorry." She says with a half smile. "Don't know what got into me." Soul shrugs.

"Nah. It's fine." He's made her happy. Damn. Was she ever happy. They both sit there, grinning like total idiots. For the first time Soul has no problems with this new resonance. Feeling her absolute, pure joy is such a rush as it mixes with his own, bouncing back and forth between them. They're on top of the fucking world. Here, in a hospital, ten minutes after his Meister was in surgery, Soul's happier than he's ever been in his life.

* * *

Unwanted Author Commentary: Whoooooa I ended that dorky. Ok. Sorry. But it was the only way I could think of to do it, since I have this problem with dragging on romantic tension for dozens of pages and then have a really awkward, stupid confession. I hope this flowed a little better. But! We have a romance! And it only took like... seven pages? Dunno. Something. New record!


	2. Discharged

Unwanted Author Commentary: Ok, I thought this part was sweet. I have a possibly unhealthy fascination for having one character need to take care of the other at some point in the story. Teehee.

* * *

The next morning Soul wakes up to the cold, white, phosphorescent hospital lights. His back is cramped where he slept in the chair funny, and he thinks the floor may have been more comfortable. Hospitals. Maka yawns and blinks, which annoys Soul. She needs her sleep, dammit.

"Good morning." She slurs, rubbing her eyes.

"Hey. You should be asleep."

"Yeah, I know, but you woke me up." Soul's about to apologize, then he realizes what she means. Him simply being awake is most likely the cause, and he mentally curses. "Oh it's fine." She tells him. "I'm really not that tired." Soul knows she's lying but still, she has improved. The dark circles under her eyes have faded, and her face has a lot of color back. There's a growl from somewhere under her blankets, and Maka giggles.

"I think I might want some food now." She says, and Soul can't help but grin. Major surgery yesterday and she still manages to be cheerful. That girl will never cease to amaze him.

"Mkay. I'll go grab a nurse or something." Soul steps out in the hall and waylays a passing woman in blue scrubs. "'Scuse me. My friend would like something to eat?"

"Of course." The woman replies, and scurries off down the hallway somewhere. When he gets back in Maka gives him an amused look, holding up a little clicker.

"You didn't know I have a call button, did you." Soul shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Uh, no."

"Well, it's fine. I suppose we'll be getting something either way." They sit and wait in comfortable silence. Strangely, it doesn't really feel like much has changed between them, Soul realizes. They were always close. It really just felt like he had acknowledged something he knew all along more than anything else. But he's happy enough that a little half grin on his face absolutely refuses to leave. A few minutes later a different nurse in white scrubs comes in with a tray, which he deposits unceremoniously on Maka's lap.

"The doctor will be in when you're done eating to check up on the injury. Just use the buzzer." He says, and he gives her a significant look. Soul feels a bit guilty but Maka doesn't mind, thanking him and starting to eat. Her hands seems stiff and tired, and they shake when she picks up the fork. After the third time she drops a bite of food, Soul moves his chair back over.

"Here. Lemee help." He scoops up a bit of something that claims to be eggs, though Soul isn't so sure. "Say ah." She actually does, closing her eyes and opening her mouth like an oversized baby bird. It's almost too cute. "Ok, thats adorable." Soul comments, scooping up another bite. Maka giggles through a mouthful of eggs that Soul knows taste like wet cardboard.

"More." She demands, and Soul obliges, slipping her small, easily managed morsels until the tray is completely clear. Maka sips some of the juice that came along with it, and clicks the little button. Moments later, a doctor comes in, holding a clipboard.

"Ms. Albarn?" He says. "Heard a lot about you. Yes, very exciting to be treating you today." Soul feels an irrational urge to hit the man. He shouldn't be happy she's in the fucking hospital, no matter how famous she might be. Maka gives him a look and a little gesture to calm down. "Mr. Evans, correct?" The doctor looks at Soul. "Would you mind stepping out into the hall? I need to check Ms. Albarn's stitches and I assume she would rather you not look." Soul nods and stalks out. Creep. That guy really rubs him the wrong way. He tries to make out the muffled conversation from inside the room, fails, and flops down on a chair. There's repeated twinges in his side, little pokes and prods that make him shift uncomfortably. It goes on for several minutes before the doctor comes back out. He walks up to Soul.

"Yeah?" Soul asks. He doesn't want to deal with this guy any more than he wanted to talk to Stein.

"Ah, Mr. Evans. Ms. Albarn is being discharged from the hospital. The injury is uninfected, the stitches are-"

"Hold the fuck up." Soul growls. Discharged? Hell no. She could barely move. "She isn't leaving until she's better, you got that." Soul doesn't phrase it like a question in the slightest, and the doctor shrinks back a little.

"Soul?" Maka calls from inside the room. "Would you come here please?" With another growl and a piercing look at the doctor, Soul steps in the room.

"Don't tell me-" He starts. She cuts him off.

"I feel good enough to get a ride home, ok? Besides. They need the extra space. They're always filled to capacity here and there's several patients on a waiting list." Soul knows she's right. He doesn't give a shit.

"I just don't-"

"I already had them call Papa for a ride. It isn't like I'll be on the motorcycle." Maka gives him a tired smile. "Really. I'll be fine." Soul sighs.

"Fine." He raises a hand. "I reserve the right to tell you you're an idiot." She looks exasperated.

"If it makes you happy. Now help me out." He helps her slide out of the bed. Was she this light before? It felt like he was holding a twig. Slowly they limp for the front office, careful not to do anything to Maka's side. "We need to stop by the front desk. There's some special medication they're putting me on. It should make me better in a week or so." She tells him.

"Sounds like pretty cool stuff." Soul replies. After a brief conversation with some secretary, they get a bottle of pills and get out. It's raining, which Soul finds oddly fitting. They stagger onto a bench and Soul carefully lowers the girl down. She shivers absently.

"It's cold." She manages through slightly chattering teeth. Soul shrugs out of his black leather jacket and settles it around her shoulders.

"Here."

"But-"

"Really? You need it way more than I do."

"But Papa isn't going to let you in the car! You're gonna need to ride your motorcycle home and-"

"Ah, shaddap. I said I'll be fine." Maka's pissed at his tough guy attitude but she lets it slide. Just then, a sleek black town car pulls up, and Spirit comes rushing out.

"Oh my baby!" He sobs. "Are you all right?" He glares at Soul. "He had something to do with it, didn't he."

"No Papa." Maka says, shushing him. "Soul's been perfectly fine. In fact, Soul, would you please help me into the car?" She pointedly ignores Spirit as Soul helps her hobble in. Then he steps back and watches them drive off. Somehow, the car manages to kick up a shower of water that hits Soul's jeans. He sighs and heads for the parking garage. By the time he's gotten there all of his clothes are utterly soaked, and following Spirit back to his apartment is worse. The rain pounds into his thin cotton shirt and soaks down his pants as he rumbles down the streets. When his building comes into view he feels absurdly relieved. He pulls in just as Spirit is gallantly helping Maka out, offering her an umbrella and his arm for support. She waves him off and stands on top of the steps waiting for Soul. Spirit, when he passes Soul on the stairs, gives him a glare.

"You had better treat her well, understand?" He says, going for threatening and ending up at pleading.

"Yeah yeah." Soul mutters, bounding up the steps to get to Maka. He doesn't need their new bond to know she is pissed beyond belief.

"I cannot believe him!" She says furiously as Soul unlocks the door and helps her in.

"What did he do this time."

"I found this huge stiletto heel in the backseat. He tried to explain that a 'friend' he was giving a ride left it there." Soul snorts at that.

"Yeah. Bet I can guess what kind of ride it was."

"Not helping!"

"Sorry, sorry." He lowers himself down beside her. "Need anything?" She yawns.

"Nap. A nap would be good."

"Yeah. I woke you up pretty early." He helps her into her room and starts to leave.

"Soul?" She says quietly.

"Hmm?" There's a pause.

"Would you not go anywhere?" He blinks.

"Uh. Sure." Then he yawns too. "Man. You've gotten me tired. I think I'll catch some sleep too." Maka blushes and fidgets under the covers.

"You could sleep here. You know, if you want." She offers shyly, and he feels a buzzing, almost desperate undercurrent in her emotions.

"Sure. Lemee just change."

"Oh! Oh of course." She says, just now noticing how he's dripping all over the floor. Soul goes to his room and starts rooting around for something to wear. Sleep with her? Already? Wasn't it a little... sudden? But hell. He could definitely understand why she wanted to. He comes back in wearing a loose white shirt and sweatpants, slipping under the covers. "Well don't be way over there." She says, and cuddles close to Soul, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Yeah yeah." He replies, cradling her in his own. "I'm not going anywhere." Moments later they've both drifted off.

* * *

Unwanted Author Commentary: Ok. That. I liked writing that. I hope you liked reading it. Why am I making Soul the awkward one? Somebody explain this to me please? It wasn't intentional and makes no sense. But whatever, I'm going to go giggle in a corner and watch AMVs.


	3. Kisses and Cream

Unwanted Author Commentary: Ooook. The moment (or one of them anyway) that we've all been waiting for. Smooches! And I've fixed my earlier problem. Maka is going to be awkward and by god I'm making up for every OOC second that Soul went through. Why am I exacting revenge on fictional characters for my bad writing? Help? Am I losing it?

* * *

Maka wakes up with the orange sunlight of afternoon streaming into her window, her bed surprisingly warm. She looks over, still in a sleep addled daze. Eep! Soul's here! What's he doing here! Granted, it's a dream come true but... oh. She suddenly remembers yesterday. That's right. He told her... well. In his usual way, he didn't actually say anything. But the intent was there, darn it! Lazily she pokes his cheek, and he sort of snorts and rolls over.

"Guh. Time. And don't do that." He mumbles. Just to tease him, she does it again, then looks at the clock.

"It's three PM. And I'm hungry."

"Again."

"Yes again!" He sits up and stretches luxuriously.

"Fine. But we don't have any food."

"Oh shoot. That's right. Um..."

"There's that cafe you like. It's just on the corner."

"Oh, right! I would kill for a strawberry smoothie." Soul makes a face. Despite Maka's insistence on a balanced diet, fruit and vegetables aren't his thing, to her endless annoyance.

"Fine. Do we even have clothes." He already knows the answer, and they both know whose fault it is. Maka cooks and does dishes, he cleans everything else. That's their deal, and it bugs her that he hasn't done laundry.

"You know the answer to that one." She decides to reply, somewhat tartly.

"Gah. Sorry." He mutters. "I'll do it right now." He sort of falls out of bed, and walks out of the room scratching his head. Moments later Maka can hear the deep 'wum wum' of the washing machine. He comes back in.

"That's gonna take a bit. Do you need to eat now or..." She's about to answer but her stomach does it for her, letting out a plaintive whine. "All right then." He says. "Guess we're going like this." Maka gets out of bed to test her legs. "Oh by the way." Soul asks. "Did you remember to take one of those pills?"

"Yeah." She says, feeling surprisingly good. "I took one in the car ride with Papa."

"Well you look a lot better." And Maka feels it. She gives him a grin.

"I feel it too. C'mon, lets go!" When they get out the rains cleared up and the streets are soaked, but warm. Even in the thin hospital gown Maka is plenty warm. They walk down the sidewalk, no longer really a stagger but Maka still leans on Soul heavily. He's so warm... When they get to the entrance of the little cafe Soul swings the door open, and Maka almost yelps at the cold air.  
"Ah shit. Forgot to bring you a coat." Soul mutters. He doesn't even need to look at her, he just knows.

"It's fine. Let's just order and sit down." They walk up to the glass counter and Maka looks down, scanning all the little treats. She always knows what she's going to order but it's still nice to browse. Soul, on the other hand, cuts straight to the chase.

"Ham sandwich and a ginger ale." He tells the shopkeeper. Then he glances at Maka. "How about you?"

"Um... strawberries and cream smoothie." She requests. They find a booth and slide in to wait. Maka looks around. This place is a popular hangout for DWMA students, and there's a couple of groups of other girls. These she homes in on, and realizes they're all looking at her and Soul. Well, really just Soul. Don't they even notice her! Soul notices the girl seething with rage and gives her a wry glance.

"Look, I have a wonderful selection of pastries and girlfriends."

"Gah! Shut up!" She says, hitting him. But he's just to hilarious and she's grinning all the while, her anger forgotten. He notices she's cold and puts an arm around her shoulders, and she possessively holds onto his shirt. And maybe sticks her tongue out, but that would be childish and immature. No, she certainly didn't do anything like that.

"Ham sandwich, ginger ale, strawberry smoothie." Comes the disinterested voice of the clerk, and Soul untangles himself, coming back with a black plastic tray. He doles out the food and starts attacking the sandwich while Maka delicately sips her smoothie. Mmm. Strawberries. Suddenly there's a tugging on her gown, and she realizes Soul was moving it a bit.

"What was that for!" He shouldn't be fiddling with her clothes! Ever! Or... at least... not here...

"Chill. It was off your shoulder. Didn't they have a smaller one?" Maka looks down at the thin, breezy garment. It is way too big for her and she suddenly realizes she isn't wearing anything under it. She has to fight off a sudden temptation to slide under the table and hide.

"Um no uh..."

"Oh calm down. It isn't that bad."

"That bad! If you're trying to get me to calm down that isn't a very good choice of words!"

"Deep breath. And calm. Down." Maka's about to die of embarrassment but she takes his advice. Deep breath. No, not that deep! She doesn't have a bra on dangit! Augh! She gives up and sits huddled over the smoothie, watching Soul out of the corner of her eye. Then just plain old watching Soul. How did they even end up together? Maka doesn't think that will ever cease to amaze her, though admittedly it's only been a day. But really, it's a lot more than that, they've lived together for years. Suddenly, she's insanely jealous. Of his sandwich, no less. It may be silly, but if two slices of bread are getting more of his mouth than she is, there's a problem. He gives her a funny look, unable to decipher what she's thinking. She smiles inwardly, and maybe panics just a little. The girl lets the gown slip off the shoulder opposite Soul. Predictably, he starts to adjust it. "Will you cut that-" She leans into his slight tug, looping a hand around his head and pulling him in. Soul starts a little then leans into it, and then _oh wow her mouth is on fire._ He's doing something with his tongue she didn't even know you were supposed to use those... licking the smoothie out of her mouth, tasting it, moving it between their mouths oh that's right, she should be doing something too but wow he's distracting... Maka mewls a little, clinging to him hard. She can hardly think, can't breathe, her eyes are gently shut and she's nudging into him, trying to compete but_ this is amazing._ Finally Maka can't take it anymore. She needs to breathe, she needs her mouth back. When she leans away she's panting, but he just sits there with this sly evil grin plastered on his face, leaning his head one one hand.

"Uh... uh..." She starts to say. or not say, because words seem to be avoiding her. Except for words such as 'again' or 'more' or 'can we go back to the apartment and could you take off your clothes', but she doesn't particularly want to be saying those in a crowded restaurant, especially when everyone is staring at them.

"We're going to practice that." He tells her, dry amusement in his tone. She swallows. And really, really wants to get back to the apartment. They finish quickly and head back. Maka's nervous. Outright panicking. Soul on the other hand is finding the entire thing hilarious, and she decides more than anything she wants to hit him. Serves him right. Yeah. Right. That was all she wanted to do... He unlocks the door and they walk in. Maka peers over the couch at him as he wanders over to the washing machine and starts putting it all in the dryer. Then, equally lazily, he comes back to the couch. And sits down beside her. "Practice time." He informs her calmly, and suddenly she can't focus on anything else. So warm...

* * *

Unwanted Author Commentary: Hahaha revenge taken. Ok, I personally loved writing that. More on the way, and then I may kick into psycho editor mode and make all of this better with more of the characters actually _thinking _and better word choice and... ok. Calming down. But that. Was the most hilariously awkward thing ever. Let us have a moment of silence for any dignity Maka may have had.


	4. Pillow Talk

Unwanted Author Commentary: And now we're getting into more smoochey stuff. I promise, there will be plot! Eventually. But I got things planned. Several things. It's gonna be exciting! Family drama! Motherly visits! Maybe even an action break where things can explode.

* * *

Maka's amazed at how long practice takes. An hour, maybe? More? Time lost any semblance of meaning. _Was she really doing that for an __**hour?**_ Augh. Today was just too confusing. Soul's at the dryer, pulling out clothes.

"Here." He says, handing her a folded lump of cloth. It's her favorite pajamas, the green ones with little bears on them. Maka is suddenly, acutely aware of the fact that she is in fact a complete dork. She goes into her bedroom and starts to change, trying to get the gown off. Wow. These knots were impressive.

"Hey, Soul?" She calls. It's just too embarrassing to ask for help but what else could she do?

"Yeah."

"I need some help getting this off..."

"Woman-" He comes in the room, half dressed in a loose pair of jeans. And no shirt. It was... uh... really distracting...

"I just need you to get these knots!" Maka says angrily, trying to maintain some tiny bit of dignity. Because she definitely still had any of that left.

"Ok." He says, leaning against the door and giving no indication he's going to do anything. "Clarify something for me. Is this an awful come on, or are you really just that clueless." He deadpans. Her cheeks turn bright flaming red, and she's reasonably certain they might actually be on fire. Why. Was he such. A jerk. And not just a jerk, but really good at being a jerk. Long hours of practice probably.

"Gah! I hate you!" He grins hugely and laughs.

"Ok, I'll go with clueless. Here, lemme get that off you." He leers suggestively, and Maka smacks him upside the head. But he sits cross legged on the bed behind her and starts picking at the knots. "Will you stop that?" He says with mild frustration. She's shivering at his every touch as his hands work their way up her back.

"Sorry." She mutters, silently vowing that his head was going to be introduced to the complete works of Shakespeare. Maybe multiple times. Finally, he reaches the last know and the gown almost falls off. "Eep!" Maka squeaks, and barely catches it in time. "Out!" She commands. He was not seeing her naked. Ever.

"Yeah, yeah." He says, barely restraining laughter.

"You are not supposed to think this is funny! Cut it out!" Maka yells in impotent rage.

"Bitch, don't tell me what to do."

"Bitch?" Maka shrieks. She's had it. He's going to die. Die, die, die. Wisely, Soul takes the opportunity to retreat. He shuts the door just as a hurled paperback slams into the space where his head would have been. Maka stalks to the shower. "I'm going to kill him." Becomes her mantra as she turns on the hot water. Delicately, she soaps around the puckered stitches, lathers her hair, and rinses, turning gently in the water. Somewhere over the past few minutes the two 'l's in kill have become a pair of 's'es, and that infuriates her beyond belief._ "Practice time."_ She shivers involuntarily. Then, with an angry shake of her head, gets out of the tub and dries off, slipping on her pajamas. Time to find her good friend, the complete hardcover works of William Shakespeare. When she stalks out of her room holding the heavy book, Soul's ordering pizza.  
"Extra cheese, mushrooms, and-" He stops. And goes pale. "Shit. Yeah, that's all. See you in ten. Maybe." He slams the phone down and starts backing away. "Ok hold up."

"No! You called me a bitch!"

"You may want to think this through a little more-" By this point, Maka is within striking range. Down goes Shakespeare, and _ow ow ow._ Their heads explode with pain. Stupid resonance. Stupid Soul. And she manages to agitate her surgery, falling onto the kitchen tile. Going. To kill him! There's this bubbling cauldron of rage in Maka's mind that ignores the fact that she may have done this to herself. He was going to pay. "Woman-" He growls. Then sighs. "Guess I deserved it. But seriously, take some care of yourself. We can't even tell each other apart yet."

"Owwww." Maka moans. Suddenly, she feels very silly. Did she really come out here intending to beat him with a book? And did it really hurt so much? Soul's snicker doesn't help.

"Oh man you're too pitiful." He tells her, half shuffling over the tile to give her a hug. She leans into it. No! No forgiveness! This was war- ok. Nevermind. Everything was fine now. She just couldn't stay mad at him, especially like this, his muscular arms encircling her waist, her shoulders. Suddenly there's a sharp knock on the door, and she jumps. "Pizza's here." Soul says, rising to his feet. Maka, determined not to act like a complete invalid, gets out plates. "Where's my wallet." Soul calls.

"Table to the right of the couch." Maka calls back. The delivery boy is payed, and Soul comes back in with a greasy, steaming box. Unceremoniously he plops it down on the table.

"Man. I'm already fucking **starved.** Or maybe you are. Hard to tell." He starts dishing out the slices, heaping them onto Maka's plate. She begins eating with a fork and knife. Soul stares in vague horror.

"What?" Maka demands.

"You're..." He looks shocked. Appalled "You're using a fork to eat _pizza?_"

"Um. Yes?"

"That's just wrong." He mutters, shoving a slice in his mouth.

"But you're getting grease and stuff all over your hands!" Maka says, confused.

"I'm also eating it. Properly. As in, no silverware involved."

"What is-"

"Shut up and eat your pizza wrong. Heathen." Maka goes back to eating pizza wrong. Is there even a right way to do this? What the heck was that about? Is he actually mad? Then she realizes what she's worrying about. Utterly ridiculous. And his fault. Because everything is his fault. In a somewhat startling turn of events, she finishes before him, and looks hopefully in the box for more. "You're going to get so fat." Soul mumbles between a mouthful of food.

"I've lost seven pounds or something! Fat would be good!" Maka angrily steals the last slice.

"Ice cream?" Soul offers a minute or two later. "It's the only thing we have left. That and milk."

"Oooh!" Maka says, struck with an idea. "Milkshakes!"

"You already had a smoothie."

"Milkshakes!" She chirps again. Soul sighs and gets up.

"Sure, sure." He finds the blender and grabs a couple things out of the fridge. Moments later a growly humm fills the kitchen. "We're having chocolate." He calls over the noise.

"But we have some-"

"Chocolate." He repeats, and Maka decides not to argue. Chocolate is good too, she supposes. Soul steadily pours it into a pair of large cups, casually setting it down in front of Maka.

"Thank you!" She sing songs, taking a big gulp. It's delicious, but now her upper lip is coated in chocolate. Soul busts out laughing.

"You look ridiculous." He informs her, as if she didn't get it. Being **Mr. Cool**, he's slouching in his chair, drinking it and not spilling a drop. Maka guzzles the rest, still hungry and plenty irritated.

"I need sleep." She mutters, glancing at a clock. Only eight. She was exhausted either way.

"I'm game." Soul replies lazily, with an exaggerated grin.

"Not like that! Cut it out!" Maka mutters. He's so annoying! She clears away her cup and heads for the bedroom. Halfway across the apartment she turns and looks at him. "Coming?" She asks, almost casually. Almost. But she's still nervous about this.

"Yeah." He answers, putting his cup in the sink. Maka heads into her room, Soul at her heels. She flicks the light out and they crawl in together, alone in the dark. She can hear him breathing, see his outline in the faint light. Almost hesitantly, he moves forward. "You still have a chocolate mustache." He tells her softly. "Here. Lemme help." And he's kissing her. Thankfully, practice has paid off, and Maka's able to respond somewhat. Their mouths are sweet and chocolaty, but the kiss is different, slower and sleepier than before. He breaks apart and his mouth travels down her jaw onto the sensitive skin on the side of her neck. He nips and she mewls a little. It was like little shocks of lightning everywhere he touches, a trail of electric fire where he has been. Slowly he moves to her lobe, worrying it. The curve of her ear fits his tongue perfectly, and a swirl elicits a moan. Her hands are wandering, hesitantly around his waist then up his back, feeling the muscles near his shoulder blades shift and tighten as he changes his grip around her. His fingers are dancing over her body like he's playing piano, shifting from a tug at the waistband of her pants to travel up her side and across her stomach. It's maddening and she wants him to do more, but... she knows neither of them are ready. Though it's still infuriatingly tantalizing as his hands slip an inch down her pants, across her rib cage, and his mouth finds every little place to nip and lick and bite... she revels in it. The girl makes a vague attempt at responding, taking one hand and suckling the fingers, her mouth working almost involuntarily, tightening and twisting around him at his every motion. She can tell through their bond he's enjoying this, and she hesitantly plays around up his shirt. Less of a reaction. What could she even do? Suddenly Maka feels useless, and her side hurts, and she just wants to drift off. Soul reacts almost immediately, his hands shifting to hold her gently, stilling and calming. Their legs are slotted together, one of his in between hers and Maka wonders how she didn't notice that happen.

"I just want to sleep now." Maka tells him. She's ashamed, ashamed she can't make him feel as good as he makes her feel. Sure it's dumb, sure he's happier pleasing her than the other way around, but she needs to be something other than dead weight.

"Mkay." He replies tiredly. There's a warm, joyous note in his voice that Maka will treasure no matter how incompetent she feels. And he understands, doesn't pressure, doesn't pry. He just accepts it, and Maka loves him for that.

"Hey, Soul." Maka whispers in the dark. There's something important, something she needs to say. It's a silly thing, but somehow it makes all the difference in the world. "I really care about you Soul." She tells him, pressing her mouth almost to his ear, just missing it by a breath. And there's this rippling wave of delight that flows through him, seeping through their bond. She's going to treasure that too.

"I... care about you too." He replies. It's like the last little piece between them has clicked. Nothing left between them, nothing left to admit, no secrets, no lies. They just are, in the dark, tangled together, unclear on where she ends and he begins. Two bodies, one soul. They aren't even resonating, not real resonance anyway, but somehow Maka feels closer than ever to him. And she resolves, tomorrow morning, to do some research. After all, there's definitely something out there on how to... um. Do things. Maybe she could borrow Soul's laptop, as she was fairly confident there wouldn't be anything in the DWMA library. Yeah. Tomorrow, that's what she's going to do.

* * *

Unwanted Author Commentary: Anyone else see where I'm taking this? *Evil grin* Accidentally looking up porn of course! More soon my ducklings. Be patient. And I'll try and introduce something resembling a story and not just an excuse for me to write cutesy stuff. There will be dramaaaa! (llama.) Until then, just acknowledge I am a flighty person who hates finishing things.


	5. Something Special for Someone Special

Unwanted Author Commentary: Woohoo more! Something plot related is starting up. Be warned. There will be twisties. Eventually.

* * *

"Ok I have **got** to stop waking you up." Soul mumbles blearily. It's sometime around eight in the morning, and as usual, if one's up so is the other. She needed. Her fucking rest. Soul was going to get some tranquilizers or something.

"Really, it's fine." She tells him through a yawn. "I'm not that tired." Soul gives her a glance, fondness mixing with irritation.

"Liar."

"Well..."

"Ah, whatever." He mutters, getting out of bed. "Where'd you put those pills. It's one a day right." Might as well make himself useful. In fact, he badly needed to do something for her.

"My medicine cabinet. Bathroom, behind the mirror."

"Got it." Soul stumbles in, yawning and rubbing his head. He finds the little bottle, and one little blue pill rattles out into his hand. "You want water?"

"No, thanks." He comes back out.

"Here."

"Thanks." She swallows it quickly, tossing it into her mouth. "So. What should we do?" Just then, there's a noise from the bathroom.

"Hellooooo?" Comes an exaggerated, goofy voice. "Maaaka? Sooul? Are you there?"

"Oh joy." Soul mutters. "Want me to help you in there?" Maka nods. Anything from Lord Shinigami was, of course, of the utmost importance to her. They both stand around the mirror, cramped and uncomfortable in the tiny bathroom.

"Hello, Lord Shinigami!" Maka chirps. Soul winces a little. Too damn early for cheerfulness.

"Hello, Maka!" Lord Shinigami sing-songs back. "Got some news for you two!" He pauses to clear his throat dramatically. "As you know, we've been planning a party to celebrate our victory over Asura, and you two are the guests of honor! We're having it in a week, just to allow Maka to get all better!"

"Great! We'll be there!" Maka replies, and Soul can practically hear her mind racing.

"Well then, see you there! You could even help if you wanted! Hope you feel better!" The mirror fades back to being a mirror. Gah. Soul's going to die. They're both such... morning people. It's awful. He's going to stab someone if he has to put up with one. More. Perky. Second.

"So. Party." Soul mutters.

"Mhmm. We've got a lot to do!"

"Uh, what are you talking about. I just need like... my suit right?" He's honestly confused. They had nice clothes, like, for exactly this kind of thing. What was there to even do? Maka sighs and Soul feels a flash of exasperation from her.

"I need a new dress, and I have absolutely no good jewelry, and Lord Death said we could help out with the planning." She rattles off. "So we need to get all of that done."

"Great. So I assume you'll need an escort for all this?" Soul already knows he's going to be working as a combination of chauffeur, pack mule, and human crutch. Yup, this week was going to be great...

"If you wouldn't mind." Maka says, her tone strongly implying that he better **not** mind.

"Usually you don't worry about this stuff. What's up?" He knows she's hiding something. Maybe it's the link, maybe because this is so out of character, but she has some other reason.

"Not telling!" She says with an insulting smile. "You'll just have to find out." Then she looks down at her stomach. "Though I still don't feel great. Let's hold off a day, mkay?" He feels a steady, persistent ache, and nods.

"Sure. Fine." He also feels a bit of hesitance, she's definitely about to ask something.

"Can I borrow your laptop?" The girl asks. Yup, he called it. Though why was she nervous about that? I mean, of course she knew absolutely nothing about technology of any kind, but she stole it on a fairly regular basis.

"Uh, sure. What for."

"Stuff!" She replies, hurrying to his room. She comes back with a sleek black box. "Out!" Maka commands, and Soul decides to let her craziness run its course.

"Yeah, yeah. Weirdo." He mutters, shutting the door behind him.  
Shut up!" Comes a voice from the bedroom, which Soul ignores. He decides he was going to do something special for her. But what? What what what... Soul started going over things she liked. Books. Yeah. Like he knew anything about those. Bad music. Not even going there... Food. Cooking. Wow, he was on a roll. Two connected things. Ok... let's see. What kind of food? Strawberries. The girl was obsessed with them. And then he remembers something she mentioned a while ago, about her mother. When she was young and her mom was still around she got a strawberry shortcake every birthday. She had described it with this painful longing, and Soul has got an idea for a present. But there was no way in hell he could cook that. Where was his phone... oh. Right there in his pocket. He dials.

"Yo. Black Star. Got a problem."

"Dude. It had better be good." His voice is sleepy, and there's an earth shattering yawn.

"Yeah, well, you owe me. Stein's project from a year ago. I never cashed in."

"We aren't even in school anymore! Hell, if you were here you'd be teaching midgets!"

"Exactly why I'm not there. Besides, Maka's in recovery mode. So. God boy. You'd be a sucky deity if you didn't pay debts."

"_Fine_. Whaddaya want."

"Tsubaki."

"Uh, how do you mean that. You do know we hooked up, right? So thats out of the-"

"Hold the fucking phone. You _**what**_!"

"Ok, definitely be over here ASAP. Seems we got some talking to do."

"Damn right." Soul mutters, hanging up. Black Star and Tsubaki? The world could not get any weirder. Well, as long as Maka got her cake life would be good. Soul gets out of the house, on his bike, and rumbles down the road for Black Stars apartment.

* * *

Unwanted Author Commentary: Ok, that Black Star Tsubaki romance was actually totally random. I thought it would make for a funny phone conversation so it got put in. Sue me. Besides, they so cute.


	6. Strawberry Shortcake

Unwanted Author Commentary: And Tsubaki gets screentime! I love her so much. And I'm still talking like this is a movie. Grr.

* * *

Soul raps sharply on the door, and Tsubaki opens up.

"Oh, Soul! How nice to see you!" She murmurs, her soft voice cheerful.

"And he's finally here!" Black Star calls from inside. "Thanks for letting him in babe." Tsubaki pinks and covers her mouth with a hand.

"Can you help me get him to stop calling me that?" She whispers to Soul.

"Yeah. I'll try." He mutters back. Seems he had a shit ton of work to do. Black Star wanders up, slinging an arm around Soul.

"Dude. Haven't seen you in forever."

"Ok, first off, it's been like three days. Second, Maka was in the fucking _**hospital**_. I've been a _little_ busy." Soul replies, more than slightly pissed. Black Star was... annoying on a good day.

"Yeah, that's right. You have that friendzoned crush on her."

"Man. We really do have a lot to talk about. You got a beer?" Soul asks. He needs a drink. Badly.

"I got like fifty." Black Star cackles, sauntering into the kitchen. "What kind?" They spend a bit picking stuff out, settling on a microbrew with a pretentious name. "So. Like I said over the phone, me and Tsubaki are a thing now. So if you wanted me to hook you up with her, you're outta luck."

"Hell no, not what I meant. Though first, explain that. How did this happen?"

"Well, of course she's had a huge crush on me for forever." Soul doesn't even need to look to know Tsubaki is hiding in her room. Obviously, hearing Black Star's version of events would be traumatizing for the sensitive girl. "So she finally got Liz to ask me out for her. And I figured I should go for it. I mean, check that ass." Soul buries his head in his hands and takes a slug of the beer.

"Do me a favor." He mutters through his elbow.

"Another one?"

"Talk with her before you say shit like that. She told me it bothers her when you do, but she's too shy to actually tell you that. I mean really dude. Other people. They exist." Soul knows Black Star feels embarrassed he didn't think about it, and that he's gonna cover it with something obnoxious. Three two one...

"Gaaaay. You're like a chick bro." And there it was. Soul growls into the sleeve of his jacket.

"Whatever. Anyway, what I meant was I need Tsubaki's help with some baking." Black Star coughs.

"Cough gay cough cough. Ok dude. Fine. Though what for? Can't you just buy something."

"Well, turns out I have some news too. You said I have a... friendzoned crush on Maka?"

"Yeah. Cuz ya do."

"She kinda asked me out at the hospital." Black Star falls off the chair laughing.

"The fucking _**hospital?**_ Man, get a load of Mr. Romantic here! Ahhh hah hah you and the nerd chick! Oh too perfect!" Soul fights an impulse to kick him and loses. "Gah. Ow." Then he breaks down again. "Hahahah! Ok fine!" He gets up and lounges on the chair, grinning like an idiot. "Though really. The dorkiest girl in school. That right there is _taste_." Soul has to mentally remind himself murder is illegal. Though he wonders, would a judge take extreme jackassery as grounds for leniency?

"Great. Lemme go ask her then." Soul mutters, getting up and knocking on Tsubaki's door. "Hey. Nakatsukasa. Got a minute?"

"Of course. Come in." Tsubaki squeaks. Soul opens the door then shuts it behind him. No need for certain asshole ninjas to be anywhere nearby.

"So, I got him to talk to you about his general idiocy." Soul raises a finger. "Don't just tell him 'oh it's totally fine say whatever' because that isn't true. Speak up a little. It would solve a lot of problems. Second, I actually came over to ask a favor from you."

"Well I'd be happy to help!" She says, smiling warmly. "After all, you've helped me out a lot."

"Nah. It wasn't anything. How are you two doing by the way?" She closes her eyes, a little grin on her face.

"Let's just say a lot better than I expected. There's a surprising amount you can get him to do if you just know how to ask."

"Whoa. Careful Nakatsukasa. That was almost evil. You got a reputation." She giggles and he flashes her a wry grin. "So anyway. I wanted help with making a cake."

"Oh really? For Maka?" Soul's dumbstruck.

"Wait. You know _**how?**_"

"Oh my. Isn't it obvious?"

"Wasn't to me. Or Black Star."

"Well he doesn't count. But you should know better! You're always so observant."

"What have I been missing!"

"Well for one thing you two act like a married couple. You're perfectly happy living together. Also, she asks you for anything. You've taken to buying her tampons, right?"

"Ok whoa. Way too personal." Stupid girl talk. Soul always thought they told eachother _far_ too much.

"Well, either way. I don't know another pair as close as you two are. I've been expecting it for a while to be honest." Suddenly Tsubaki puts a hand to her mouth. "Oh! I just remembered! How is she? I heard you two had a problem on a mission."

"Yeah. Some punk shot her. We were with Stein, so he took care of the rest. She's feeling a lot better. They've got her on some miracle pill that should make her back to one hundred percent in a week." For whatever reason, Soul neglects to inform her of their bond. It feels like their little secret, and even if Maka is just going to blab about it next time the two go out Soul isn't going to be the one to talk. Speaking of the bond, he's feeling an acute sense of horror from Maka. What was she doing? But it didn't feel like there was any trouble, just revulsion. And maybe a bit of sick fascination. The hell was she doing with his laptop. Oh well. He would find out when he got back.

"Well I'm glad she'll be better soon." Tsubaki says, visibly relieved. "So, what do you want to make her?"

"Strawberry shortcake."

"Hmm. That shouldn't be too difficult."

"For you maybe." Soul replies dryly. "I have never baked anything. At all."

"Well then, let's fix that!" Tsubaki bubbles. "C'mon into the kitchen!" She half drags him out. Black Star watches bemused from the kitchen table, nursing his beer as Tsubaki starts yanking out ingredients. "Let's see... this and this and this..." She's got what she needs _memorized_. Hardcore. "Black Star? Would you please get me some fresh strawberries? Just from the grocery across the street is fine."

"Sure." Immediately, without complaint or question he's heading out the door. Soul watches him go, astonished.

"Did that just _happen?_" Tsubaki only smiles her tiny smile.

"Told you." She pulls out a large, worn cookbook. "Now let's see." Tsubaki starts flipping, eating away massive chunks of the book in search for the cake recipe. Finally on one yellowed page she halts. "Ok. Let's see." They rattle through a laundry list of ingredients, the only thing missing being the strawberries. With absolutely perfect timing, Black Star comes in and tosses Soul the strawberries.

"Catch." Soul barely manages to, almost dropping them all over the ground.

"Geez. Just hand them to me, wouldja?" He's ignored, and Black Star heads off into his room. Whatever.

"Ok, let's get started!" Tsubaki chirps, diverting Soul's attention.

"Great. What do I do." She starts walking him through it. By the end, Soul's covered in flour and bits of dough, and he's definitely going to need to wash his jacket. But there's a perfect little lump of dough in a ceramic pot.

"Ok, now we just need to let that bake!" Tsubaki tells him. "Black Star's feeling left out. Go do something with him. I'll read or something."

"Ok." Soul decides not to question her judgement. Tsubaki's insight into the egocentric maniac that was Black Star could be nothing short of psychic. Soul walks over to his room and goes in. "Finish that ninja movie?" He offers. They had started some ridiculous kung fu flick Black Star insisted was a classic, and Soul had found himself strangely absorbed in the wire fights and bad dubbing. Of course, they only got halfway through.

"Hell yes!" They pop it in and enjoy mindless, awesome violence. The credits are wrapping up when Soul hears a polite knock.

"That was great. But I think The cakes done." Soul tells him, getting to his feet. As predicted, it's Tsubaki at the door.

"We need to do the decorating." She informs him. They go over to the toasty warm cake, looking plump and happy on the counter. "Carefully put it on this plate, and cut it horizontally into three pieces." She instructs. Soul obliges, using a knife that is, in his opinion, way too small. Authentic scythe cut strawberry shortcake. Yeah. That would go well. Somehow he manages to make the pieces relatively even, and he covers them with frosting and strawberry slices. Putting the thing together, the rest of the frosting goes in delicate swirls on the top. Well, he says delicate, but half the time they came out as a lump. Finally he scattered the rest of the strawberries on the top and stepped back to survey his handiwork. "It looks great!" Tsubaki tells him. Sure. Little lopsided, but delicious.

"Thanks a lot for this." He says. "Uh, where are we going to put it?" Tsubaki roots around under her sink.

"I have a box somewhere..." She pulls out a huge tupperware. "Let's use this." They maneuver the cake inside, and firmly press on the lid. Soul says his goodbyes and profusely thanks Tsubaki. Maka had better appreciate this. He clambers on the bike, the cake awkwardly positioned in his lap. But he was not going to mess it up, dammit. When he pulls up at the apartment he's started tapping out a cheery beat on the plastic lid. He steps in the apartment, and almost drops the box.

"Aaah! Ooooh!" Come suggestive female noises. They aren't Maka's voice, it's far too deep and sultry. His wide eyed, horrified gaze finds her on the couch, with his laptop, watching porn.

"What in the hell!" He practically shrieks. Porn on _**his laptop!**_ This was going to be an interesting explanation. To say. The least.

* * *

Unwanted Author Commentary: Hahah! Cliffhanger! I actually haven't even come up with a reason for this, or rather, I have several possible ones. Enjoy the awkward, kiddies. Though I think this counts as author abuse. I am using my powers for evil to harass my characters. Because why not!


	7. Porn Talk Cakewalk

Unwanted Author Commentary: Ok. I got somewhere to go with this. Hang with me here people. I can make this work. God, I sound like that awful clingy girlfriend. Really baby! Got it all worked out! No seriously. I thought this was hilarious.

* * *

Soul is absolutely astonished.

"So what in the hell is going on in here!" He demands, crossing to the bed and closing the window.

"Um, uh, well..." She's panicked. Completely and utterly. And absolutely horrified at what he must be thinking.

"Ok. Explain." He tries to keep his voice level, calm. Shouting, while appropriate, isn't going to get him any answers with the state of mind she's in. Seriously. The girl looks like she's about to be in tears.

"I was... uh... doing a little research..."

"Yes. Research. It all makes sense now. Porn is, of course, _highly_ educational."

"...Well for what I was researching it... kinda is..." Soul suddenly realizes what she's talking about. Last night. The little idiot. She was worried about last night. _That's_ why she had been so weird this morning.

"I'm not going to judge." He mutters at last. "Though next time, lean away from that stuff." She's a rather charming color of crimson so bright he could use her as a light bulb.

"Thank you..." There's flood, or maybe a tsunami of relief. He absolutely can't believe he's having this conversation with her.

"Also? You could just ask me. I mean, that's what it's for, right?" Somehow her face becomes even more flushed.

"Maybe..." Ok, he has to comment. The sarcasm is bubbling over.

"If your face gets any brighter red I'm going to hang you from the ceiling and use you as a lamp." She buries her head in a pillow.

"Sorry... sorry... sorry..."

"Oh cut it out. It's fine." He glances at the laptop. "Though I'm going to need to check for viruses." He spends the next hour in her room, hunting down all the little nasty things she managed to pick up in her odyssey through the depths of the internet. She's basically immobile the whole time, eventually picking up a book and trying to read, failing miserably. Good. She _deserves_ to be dying of embarrassment. Because, really? Trying to get sex tips from porn was like trying to get financial advice from a casino. Fucking stupid, in simpler terms. Finally he's done, his computer is clean again. He hopes. Well, if anything dies, at least he would have someone to blame. "Oh c'mere you. I said I wasn't mad." He tells her, pulling the huddled body somewhere near his leg. It's hard to tell with the number of blankets she's hidden herself under where she actually is.

"You really aren't?" Comes a soft little voice. She _has_ been crying, he can tell. And suddenly Soul feels awful.

"Nah. Of course not." He mumbles. "I was a little at first, but to be honest I was more confused than anything else."

"Mmm." She grunts. "Ok. I really am sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for. You're just clueless. Really, haven't you ever used a computer?"

"...Not really. Sometimes."

"Gah. Your blind spots are so _random_ sometimes." There's a beat of silence, then-

"Hey, Soul?"

"Yeah."

"Where were you all day? Just to ask?"

"First, covers off. I'm not going to tell Blanket monster about shit." Hesitantly she pokes her head out, her ash blonde hair in loose, frizzy disarray. "Ok, I suppose I'll take it." He leans back against the headboard. "I was at Black Star's. Needed a favor from Tsubaki."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yeah. Weirdest thing happened too. They've hooked up."

"_**Really!**_"

"My reaction exactly. But yeah. Really."

"That must be..."

"She had to ask me to get her to start calling her shit. Like 'babe', or a particularly insensitive comment about her..." Soul trails off. "Physical attributes." He concludes. That was about ten times less awkward then what the idiot had _actually_ said. Which really said a lot of things about Black Star.

"So, as I asked earlier, what did you need?"

"Oh right. I made you a cake. Well. With help." Maka turns bright red again. "Ok, will you cut that out!" He mutters. It's getting ridiculous.

"B-but... I..."

"Consider it a 'get well soon' present or something." Did she actually just stutter? Really?

"...What kind. I'm hungry."

"You haven't eaten?"

"No..."

"Fine. C'mon." He tells her, getting up.

"What kind!" She repeats, trailing after him out the door.

"You'll find out in two seconds. Be patient." He opens the box and pushes it over to where she can see it. First, she looks in. Then her lip starts to tremble a little. Finally, she's in tears, completely overwhelmed by a tiny cake.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Soul asks, walking over. Doesn't she like it? What did he do? The sniffling girl almost flings herself at him, bunching up his shirt in her hands.

"You're just too..." Her heads buried in his chest. "I'm so worked up... sorry. It's... it looks exactly like the kind Mama used to make. Before she... left..." Soul sits down awkwardly with her.

"Well that's why I made it. C'mon. Cheer up."

"No... I'm delighted Soul. I can't believe you even _remembered_ that. Was like... more than a year ago..." It had been a while. She rarely talked about her mother, despite practically worshipping the woman and following in her footsteps as much as possible. Personally, Soul didn't much like what he knew about her. Mostly the whole 'leaving your kid with Spirit' bit. That was just wrong. The man was incapable of being any semblance of a parent.

"Well, get off and I'll get us plates. C'mon. Up." He commands, basically ending up having to lift her bodily into the adjacent chair. Then he goes to the cupboard and grabs two plates, two forks, and a knife. "Gonna be a bit messy." He mutters, trying to maneuver the first slice out. It fails and the thing is mostly a squashed lump once it ends up on the plate. "Ok that's mine." He says, and tries again. This time it actually looks like a slice of cake, and he doesn't do much more than knock off a few strawberries. He watches as Maka picks up the fork, hesitantly inspecting the dessert. Then she cuts off a little bit, raises it to her lips, and pops it in.

"Perfect." He thinks she mumbles, her eyes closed. He feels a radiant mix of warm joy and bittersweet nostalgia rippling through their bond. He tries a bit too, and is surprised at how well it turned out. "Wait!" She suddenly exclaims, her thankfully empty fork clattering to the plate. "Gimme your phone!"

"Uh. Sure. What for." Soul replies, handing her the little device. Maka doesn't reply and it biting her lip, tapping through menus. There's a click and a flash, and Soul realizes she just too a picture of the cake. "Really?"

"I want to remember this." She tells him, completely serious. Then she hands it back. "Could you put that on the computer? I'm just remembering the time you dropped that and we had to get a new one."

"Sure." He says, sticking it back in her pocket. She is just the absolute funniest. They end up having the cake for lunch, eating a total of five slices between them. Surprisingly, it's Maka who has a third helping. Soul sits back, sated, his mouth buzzing with sugar. Maka scootches her chair over and gives him a hug. They just sit there for a while, together. She's happier than he can ever remember, this sweet, sort of sad smile plastered across her face. Man. Baking. Who knew? Maybe he would be asking more favors from Tsubaki in the future. After a few minutes she pulls him up and over to the couch, filled with this iron hard resolve. What the hell was she up to? The girl pushes him down and then climbs on top. "Uh..." He starts. This was getting a little...

"Shush. My treat." She mumbles back. Her head goes a little way past his and her mouth closes on one of his ears, heat spreading like fire. _Shit that felt good._ He almost needs to check and see if her mouth isn't cherry red, like molten metal. Soul cradles her as she swirls her tongue and takes tiny nips at the rim of his ear, humming a little tune all the while. It's like his entire body is vibrating along with her, straining after the deep, thrumming notes. Finally, with a little gasp of air she lets go. "My treat." She repeats, shyly this time.

"See. Practice. Not the other word beginning with a 'p'." Soul replies, his voice husky. _More_. She giggles a little.

"You said you didn't mind."

"Oh trust me, there will be words if it happens again. Get your own computer." She's in full swing now, and gives him a little kiss.

"Words? What kind?" She asks, airy amusement in her tone. "I wasn't aware we were using those right now." Soul's about to argue, but she convinces him otherwise. Maka's right, they weren't going to be using any. Not with his mouth so otherwise occupied.

* * *

Unwanted Author Commentary: Ok. I think we can finally agree Maka's had enough. Um... I have some problems to work out... and a lawsuit from Spirit... grar. Can't it wait until AFTER my AP Calculus test? Must we legalize this now? It's just slander.


	8. Shop 'Till You Drop

Unwanted Author Commentary: Ok, this is the last real bit before I skip ahead to the party. But it has plot threads! Plot threads dammit! And Maka being cute. I love to write her.

* * *

Maka gets up feeling better than ever. Those pills were really awesome. She would be fine in no time.

"Soooul!" She carols, rolling over to prop herself up over him. "It's your absolute favorite time to wake up!" Really it's like nine in the morning, way after he's usually up. They're both morning people, but there was a late night movie marathon that lasted until midnight. Honestly Maka's surprised he isn't up already. Maybe they were learning to tell eachother apart. Because after all, they were probably the only couple in the world that needed to have 'his' and hers' brains.

"Mrmph. Fuck. Time. Now." He's obviously not quite into the whole 'being awake' thing quite yet. Maka plants a solid kiss on his cheek.

"Time for us to be out of bed!" She sing songs, shaking him a little. Because, after all, there was shopping to do. For the party of course. And then... something else, a secret just for her. Because while he forgot every year, she never had.

"Gah. Fine." He mumbles through a throaty yawn. She can tell he's only just groggy, otherwise she might have let him sleep. Might. Maka dances into the bathroom, practically filled with energy. She pops another one of the pills, and starts vigorously brushing her teeth. Soul stumbles to the door a moment later. "Medicine?" He asks.

"Took it." She replies. He's still worrying about her, still looking after her. As always. He heads for the other bathroom as she finishes up. Just as the girl is about to do her hair, Soul returns.

"You know, if you would just leave it like that you would look a lot better." He informs her.

"Shoo!" She replies. "I don't need fashion advice from a guy!"

"No. You specifically can take fashion advice from anyone." Him and his stupid... grr.

"You know what? Fine." Maka mutters. Then she heads for her drawer. Soul hasn't done clothes _again_ and all she has is her school uniform. So she slips it on, the short little skirt, the button up shirt. It feels almost like she's back at the DWMA, though she's surprised and a little embarrassed at how long the clothes have fit her. Staring critically in the mirror, she's surprised to find that Soul might actually have a point. The girl in the mirror actually looks much better than the pigtailed geek she usually was. His random insights would never stop surprising her...

"You ready?" He calls from the door, in his usual attire. Black jeans, black leather jacket, orange shirt.

"Wait a minute. Did you just wash _your_ clothes!"

"I refuse to answer on grounds that may incriminate me." He replies blandly. Maka smacks him upside the head as they walk out the door.

"Jerk." She mutters. But she's excited. They almost never go out together, and this would be her first ride on his motorcycle in forever. Soul climbs on and Maka sits behind him, her legs slotting in along his, her chest pressed to his back. The entire ride she's distracted by the pale skin on his neck. It looks delicious... but drivers were not to be distracted. "Turn here." Maka instructs. She has a vague idea of where to head to.

"We're just going to that mall off Shibusen Street, right?" He asks.

"Mhmm."

"I can find it." Of course. His usual response. The annoying thing was, he was probably better with directions than her. They pull up at it a few streets later and Maka's almost sad to get off. The wind whipping through her hair, and Soul pressed up so close he can feel her every breath. She can vaguely remember a time when she was terrified of getting on, back when she didn't trust him not to crash into something. But now she can enjoy it completely. Yet still, she does want to go shopping.

"C'mon!" She chirps. They walk across the crowded parking lot, merging into the flood of people. Inside is a conveniently placed map, and Maka stops for a look. "We want to go here... here... and here." She mutters, looking at an assortment of clothing stores she had been to with Liz. That was, sadly enough, basically her entire criteria for what made up a good place to shop. Maybe Soul was right...

"Charge." He deadpans. They slip through the herd, ride up an escalator, and enter a big store blaring bad music out of tinny speakers. Soul makes a face, and Maka can feel an acute irritation coming from him. He always did hate awful music.

"We won't be here any longer than we need to." She tells him, mildly sympathetic. As it turns out, they needed to be there for a good forty five minutes. Maka was a flurry of activity, changing in and out of almost everything in the store, asking Soul's opinion on each outfit. Finally she walked out with... a necklace and a pair of shoes. The necklace was a simple silver chain hung with a diamond shaped, emerald pendant that Soul said went well with her eyes. The shoes were pitch black ballet flats, and had an elaborate rose shaped bow in a shining white fabric on the toe of each. Maka had picked them out herself, which she was very proud of. An hour and two stores later she had managed to choose a pair of silvery gray silken gloves that went to the elbow, and a dress. The dress. It was long, and the color of old jade. There were curving slashes of black fabric that ran in bands down the dress, trailing to a ruffled strip of white ruffled lace at the bottom. The collar was the same dark material as the bands, and it was simple and unadorned. It had no sleeves, and went down almost to the floor. Light enough to move in, and curved in a way that accented her_ admittedly lacking_ figure. Maka adored it and purchased it almost immediately after trying it on. When they get out of the store she turns to Soul, who laden down with the results of their time well spent.

"Don't tell me." He mutters, officially sick of this. She can feel an all consuming boredom trickling through their bond.

"I won't be long." She tells him. "Promise."

"S'what you said an hour ago."

"Look, you just need to sit here and wait a little, ok?"

"Fine." He says, plopping down on a bench. "I'll be here." Maka gives him a cheery wave goodbye as she slips off into the crowd. She had an appointment to keep, and was about to be late. The girl hurries down the stairs, pushing past mid day shoppers towards a very special store. Opening the door she's confronted by a dizzying array of instruments, an eclectic mismash of everything imaginable. Guitars are mixed with accordians and tubas, drums with stately grand pianos, and other things Maka couldn't name. She had been preparing for this moment weeks in advance. The clerk already recognizes her, knows why she's there.

"G'wan in back. Mr. Sachs is waiting." Maka hurries into the indicated back room, where a large portly man in casual clothing is lounging.

"So, it's ready?" She asks him.

"Yup. Custom ordered, top of the line, paid for in advance. And it's exactly according to your specifications. Wanna see?" His bass voice offers.

"Yes please!" She can't wait. Did it turn out right? Will he like it? He had better. It had taken a considerable amount of pleading with Lord Death to get the money. He walks back into the main shop, whistling tunelessly. Off in one corner is a padlocked storage room, which he opens with a key from his belt. It's flung open and Maka is confronted with shelves and shelves of customized instruments.

"It's in back. Gorgeous piece of work, but hard to find room." Maka nods and trails after him. They arrive in the back. There, resting under a large white sheet, is a massive lump half the size of a car. Mr. Sachs, with an elaborate flourish, flings the cloth off. The sight almost takes Maka's breath away, and her claps both hands in front of her mouth.

"Perfect." She breathes. "Have it delivered to this address in... four days." The girl hands him a slip of paper, the location of their apartment neatly printed across it.

"Will do." The fat man replies, and Maka heads back to Soul.

"Toldja I wouldn't be gone long!" She calls over to him, hurrying up. He grunts.

"We've already been here two and a half hours. I'm beyond caring."

"Oh don't be so depressed. C'mon, lets get something to drink. I'm thirsty." She knows he'll agree with that.

"I want lunch." He says as they browse along, looking for a likely place. "It's like almost twelve, and we didn't have breakfast. How aren't you hungry?"

"I had a large bowl of butterflies." Maka replies with a smile. She's actually incredibly nervous. Her clothes and Soul's present were driving her insane. He gives her a glance.

"Is that some kind of awful joke?" He asks. Maka sighs. Does he really not get it?

"You know." She says. "Like, having butterflies in your stomach! Being nervous!"

"The hell are you so worked up about then." He mumbles, but drops the subject. They find an ice cream shop. "Float." Soul decides immediately.

"They have-" Maka begins.

"No strawberry." Maka looks at him.

"What do you care what I have?"

"Because it's what I'm having too. This little outing is going to cost somewhere around four hundred dollars, remember?"_ Oh, right._ Maka giggles slightly.

"Ok. That's fair." But really, she knows he isn't opposed to the idea of buying another drink. Sometimes, he got the strangest ideas in his head. Sharing a float? Even Maka knew how completely old fashioned that was.

"So what flavor do you want." Soul asks as they advance in line. He bumps someone with a bag, and shoots off an apology.

"Um... how do you feel about caramel?" She knows they both adore caramel. Once, Maka had bought a box of these little salted chocolate caramels, maybe twenty or so in the little plastic container. It took two days for them all to pull a vanishing act.

"Fine by me." They're in front of the bored looking teenager holding the scoop. "Root beer float. Caramel ice cream." Soul requests, slipping across his DWMA card.

"Five ninety two." The guy mutters in a nasal whine. It's strangely annoying to Maka. He was handed a credit card. Do you _really_ need to say how much it's going to cost when it's even right up on the menu? But a foaming glass is slid over and Soul takes his card back. They find a pair of uncomfortable wooden chairs and sit down.

"I'll be right back." Soul says, getting back up and heading for the bathroom. Maka looks at the straws. _Hmm_. Moments later he gets back. There's a straw sticking out, facing his chair. Maka is looking mildly distracted, staring into space. He slides back in, sits down, and starts to slurp just as Maka does the same. "The hell?" He mutters, looking at the glass. Nothing's coming out. Maka breaks into uncontrollable giggles. With an unamused look, Soul pulls out the straw. The two are slotted into eachother, a little bent and crumpled from the ordeal. "Really?" He asks, one hand supporting his chin. "What are you, five?" But she knows he finds it absolutely adorable.

"Hee. Never leave drinks unattended."

"Are you quoting the crappy safety videos your parents raised you on?" He asks, his tone dripping sarcasm. Maka laughs again as he pulls the straws apart. The float ends up pulling a vanishing act inside of three minutes, even counting a quick break to grab spoons.

"Well, let's go home. There's ramen and stuff for lunch. I'll whip something up." Maka says.

"Sounds good." Soul replies tiredly. "I'm wiped out." Maka can see his point. It's partially to do with being out of shape after her hospital visit, but traversing the entire mall has left her footsore and ready to be home. So they do, getting back on the bike and heading off. Maka's too tired to enjoy it, but even through the sleepy haze she's excited. There was the big party of course. And then something special, just for her and Soul. The girl practically couldn't wait.

* * *

Unwanted Author Commentary: And for anyone wondering what the present is, you'll find out with Soul. I'll write it immediately after the party, so hang tough little ones. Two more chapters. Then it's time to drop the bass and any pretense of sanity. Plot twistas!


	9. Party Time

Author Comments: And the big party! I decided to split this into two parts.

* * *

The days pass like minutes. Everyone is bustling to get ready. Maka attends 'makeup class' hosted by Liz and Patty over at Kid's palace. Soul is stuck with furniture. Along with several other students and faculty, he spends the next three days setting up the grand ballroom for the upcoming party. Which is fucking great. Every day he comes home sweaty and exhausted, and collapses while Maka cooks dinner. Thursday rushes by, followed, as these things go, by Friday and Saturday. Then, at long last, comes Sunday. Soul gets up early to dress, though of course not as early as Maka. He's just grateful their bond isn't waking one of them up every morning, as he sleepily moves a toothbrush around his shark like fangs. Then he comes out and attempts to find his suit.

"Hey Maka. Seen the suit?"

"Didn't you find it yesterday?"

"Uh. No?" Wrong answer. She's already dressed, and storms in to help him look. A picture in furious beauty, the dress slithers and sways with her every step, the pendant bobbing along to the beat of her step.

"Here. It's right here." She grumbles, yanking it out of the closet. "Hurry up and get dressed." Then she's gone in a hiss of silky green fabric, back to the bathroom. Seriously, the girl's been fiddling with these minute amounts of makeup for an hour. Liz had rubbed off on her waaaay too much. Then she comes out and fiddles with his clothes. "You forgot cufflinks and your tie is on crooked." She informs him, fixing the two problems in question.

"Oh come on. What do you care." She's on a fashion obsessed rampage, and it's mildly unnerving.

"I care because..." She pauses, halfway into fastening the second cufflink. "Because I'm planning to tell Papa." Souls hand goes limp, and the cufflink clatters to the floor.

"Back. Up. Now." He demands in a series of short, confused, slightly angry syllables.

"Just what I said." Maka replies calmly, starting over with the fastening. "There. All done. Let's get outside." He trails after her, still confused and complaining.

"Why..."

"Because! It's important!"

"You hate him though!"

"He's still my Papa."

"...You're planning something aren't you."

"No." And he can't get another word out of her. They wait on the curb for Kid's limo. He rolls up, fashionably late, ten minutes later.

"Look at the cute little lovebirds!" Liz croons from inside as Soul and Maka slip in.

"Excuse me." Kid interrupts. "Would you mind sitting there? The arrangement of people in the car is-" He doesn't get any further. Patti has slapped a hand over his mouth, and is saying very seriously

"Now Kid Kid Kid, what were we talking about. They are destined to be together so they get to be a little asymmetrical. Alright?" Ugh... girl talk... Kid looks surprised.

"Pardon me. Destined to be together? What precisely do you mean?" Maka has sunk progressively lower and lower in her seat, and currently was attempting to hide behind Soul.

"What we mean is they're dating! And absolutely _adorable_." Liz informs him, way to excited about the whole thing. Soul wants out of the car very badly. As he is wondering this, Liz pokes him, and stage whispers "So. Have you _done it yet?_" Everyone in the car hears, and even Kid gets it when she makes a lewd gesture. Just in case Soul might not have gotten it.

"Cut it out!" Maka roars, bashing Liz over the head.

"Gah! My **hair!**" Liz shrieks. Kid looks like he's about to cry. Frantically, he leans over Patti to adjust it. Strand. By strand. "Faster! We're almost there!" Liz demands.

"These things take time." Kid replies calmly. They rumble up, and he is, predictably, not even close to done. Soul and Maka abandon ship as the other three go into full riot mode. Kid's clinging to Liz, begging to fix her, Liz is struggling to get away, and Patti is laughing her head off.

"What a bunch of nutjobs." Soul mutters, fixing his tie. Maka has his hand in a death grip. "You ok there?" He asks, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

"Little. Unused. To people talking." She growls through gritted teeth.

"Oh come on. You're better with people than I am, and I was fine with it."

"Not helping." They ascend the steps along with a steady trickle of DWMA students and staff. Maka spots Stein and Marie walking along. The weapon is clinging to her meister, head on his shoulder, arms around him. Stein appears not to notice. They were the absolute strangest couple, and Soul feels a peculiar relief from Maka. The doors are already open and they stride through.

"Maka!" Lord Death exclaims. "You're here! And Soul! Now we can get started!" Then he pauses. "Urm. Where's Kid?"

"Last I saw, trying to fix Liz's hair. They were uh... violently disagreeing over it." Soul informs him. Lord Death sighs.

"Typical. Well, time for the music to start!" With an echoing clap of his massive hands, there's silence. Couples gather at the dance floor, looking up at an improvised podium. Lord Death floats up on top of it. "Ok everybody! We have the two guests of honor here! Maka, Soul, wave for me!" Maka obliges. Soul sips a cocktail. "Make them feel extra special. It's their party after all! And have fun! And let's have that music!" As Lord Death floats down, hauntingly beautiful strains of notes drift upwards. Dancing is not only an option, it's a necessity in that room, with that wonderful amazing sound. It's a violin, unearthly in its clarity and tone, soaring to the rafters and beyond in a swaying, singing, uplifting beat. Maka's eyes are on Soul. But unlike every other couple in the room, she doesn't want to dance. She wants to know what's wrong. Because Soul has gone white as a sheet, his skin matching his hair. He knows that sound.

"Soul? Soul what's wrong?" Maka asks, almost frantic. He realizes that the panic and naked fear are rolling off of him in waves of emotion so strong they might as well be physical blows.

"Family." He croaks. "Family has come to visit."

* * *

Author Comments: Ok, don't count my big reveal as over yet. I just paused her because it felt more dramatic. Just click next and humor me... Also, the next cheapter is going to be LiveJournal active. You have been warned.


	10. Tender Confessions

Author Comments: And my big reveal! One of many actually. I'm almost writing this as a succession of short stories, and this is the first major hiccup in Soul and Maka's perfect world. I have like... three planned total. Should be fun. But! Enjoy.

* * *

Soul hurriedly goes onto the balcony. His head is spinning, his head is twisting, and he needs fresh air. Really he needs his_ damn brother gone_. Maka follows him out, placing a comforting arm on his shoulder even though she's almost as panicked as him.

"Look. Just leave me alone. Enjoy the fucking party." He mutters. He can't ruin this night for her, but he also can't go back in there. Even out here, Soul wants to scream, to kill the noise of his brother's playing any way he can. Maka stands and looks at him, framed by the beautiful music and the lights from the ballroom.

"Soul. Please. What's wrong?" She's worried out of her mind. This should have been special. She worked so hard to make this something he would remember and now he's ruining it... Soul leans back against the balcony railing.

"What's wrong is my family is full of lunatics. C'mon. I need some real air, not this half assed balcony." He leads her outside, then slouches onto the steps. Maka carefully arranges her dress and plants herself firmly in his lap. She cuddles into his neck, basking in the warm glow of his appreciation.

"You ok?" She whispers.

"No."

"Talk to me?" She's confused, he can tell. After so long without anything resembling a family, it simply didn't process in her head why Soul hated his. Hell. This was the first he'd mentioned them in years. They were a little alike in that respect.

"Just... they never wanted me with them, as soon as I started being able to turn into a weapon. Hell, they practically told me not to come back. And they follow Wes, my brother, to all of his concerts. So if he's here, so's gran, ma, and da, a whole family fucking reunion of people who hate my guts. We haven't talked since I was twelve, and I see no fucking reason to start. It's been six years. They could have said something earlier." He hooks a thumb back inside. "I mean, they didn't even try and find me. Not like there's a _huge_ amount of people." His tone is bitter and angry.

"Soul. You should try to patch things up with them." Maka sounds so calm, so utterly certain that this needs to be fixed, that he needs to forgive. And she's so utterly wrong.

"No." He replies. But she's got that look in her eyes. The girl is ready for a fight.

"Please. It's... it's important. I... want things to be better. For both of us. And that isn't going to happen if you're going to be so stubborn!" It starts off pleading, but ends up outright telling him what he should do. Typical.

"Look Maka. Just because you have family problems doesn't mean you need to push them on me." Stab. Twist. What was he saying? "Go fix things with your dad, sure. It doesn't make him any less of a cheating bastard. And sorry if I'm not as forgiving as you. But-" That's the point when she slaps him. Hard. His head rocks back and he bites his tongue. Blood and regret flood through him, and he stands up, spilling the girl out onto the steps.

"Where are you going?" Maka asks. She's quiet. Bewildered. In shock. In pain.

"Out." Short and sweet. He needs time to think. Time away from her, time away from everyone. And several miles between him and any possible blood relations. Maka's numb as he brushes past her and heads down the street. His feet take him down for his apartment, clicking sharply on the pavement for the five blocks to his building. It gives him time to think, to understand how absolutely shit headed he was being. Soul walks in, slipping of the damned uncomfortable dress shoes. Stylish yes. Good for a walk, no. He feels a buzzing worry from Maka, and a lonely, mournful undercurrent. She's desperate for him, needs him so much. And he's blowing her the hell off. Soul officially feels like the biggest jerk in the world. He lands somewhere on the couch, focusing on the link with Maka. Even if he wasn't there, he could still check up on her. She's come to some kind of decision. There's a growing frustration, desperation, worry and fear, twining together, wrenching around in her chest.. Soul's tired, so very tired. And wishes she were here. That he hadn't snapped. He'd been such an asshole today... incredibly uncool. Bringing up her family problems? The fuck was that about...

"Soul? Are you in here?" Comes her high, sweet voice. Is it really her? In a billowing wave of jade she's in the door, rushing up to meet him. "Soul... I was so worried..."

"The fuck are you worrying about me for." He wraps panicked arms around her. "Maka, I'm so sorry. What I said..." She places a finger on his lips.

"Forgiven. I was pushing you. I'm sorry." No no no. Wrong.

"It isn't. Fucking. Ok." He growls. "I-" She kisses him. And just that simple act makes him notice how desperate she still is. Then she breaks away.

"Come see something." Soul's bewildered. Forgiven? His hand in hers, he's dragged over to his room. He hasn't been in here all week, sleeping in Maka's instead. Then he gasps aloud, starting backwards. There's a piano in the room. The piano. Elaborately simple, black as the night sky, with stark white keys. His fingers twitch. The piano from the Black Room.

"What-"

"Happy birthday Soul." She murmurs. On top of everything else, she remembered his _**birthday?**_ Rubbing his hand on the smooth oiled wood, Soul sits down on a convenient matching bench. Maka stands behind him, arms draped around his neck.

"What do you want to hear?" He feels it's the right thing to say, a little tiny apology. But the only one he can make.

"Anything. Play me anything." Soul strikes a note. Then he begins to play. Rippling notes in C minor echo through the tiny space, sliding and twisting and dancing and writhing through the air. It's a version of what he played her when they met, but more refined. Gentler. It fades in and out, swelling like the tides. He's about to transition into C sharp when there's a flame burning on his ear. Maka's lips are ever so slightly on it, tracing wet lines. Soul attempts to play the feeling, switching to a whirling, sparking tune in B sharp. Then Maka ups the tempo and Soul does too, his fingers blazing along the keyboard in time with her tongue, her teeth. He wants her with a need so intense he has no choice but to respond. Maka draws him in and they half stand, half stumble into her room, tripping onto the bed as the noise of the piano,_ his piano_, fade behind them. Her dress is bunched up around her legs, and further up it goes as soul pushes her back up against the headboard. Maka gasps as his hands trace the line of her underwear. Soul looks for some sign, any sign she doesn't want this. Finding none, he abandons any pretense of patience. Off comes the jacket, and two buttons of the shirt. Further up the dress goes, the tantalizing wanderings of his hands bringing gasps and moans. It's up to her stomach now, and somewhere along the line his shirt has come off. With a quick shimmy, Maka loses the dress entirely, and in the same motion her hips press and twist on his.

* * *

Ok kiddies, this is inappropriate! Go to my profile for the link. Finally got freakin LiveJournal working... I mean good god that site bugs me. But. Be happy! Sexual tension is at an end (yeah right...)!

* * *

She's pressed against him, her face on his shoulder, and it takes him a moment to realize that sweat isn't the only thing dripping down it onto the covers. She's crying.

"Maka what's wrong. What's wrong." He's worried, knew she wasn't ok with this. Knew it, knew it, knew it. She sniffles and sobs, pulling him closer and closer until her head's on his chest.

"I'm sorry." Is all she can say. "Sorry, sorry, sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for." Though he was definitely going to feel like shit...

"Yes there is! I'm so..." There's a loud sob. "So damn..." Soul can't believe he heard that. Maka Albarn, swearing? "I'm the one who invited your brother. I got Lord Death to hire him for the party. I wanted today... it's your birthday. The party, your present, your family, um... this... I wanted today to be so special and I got so wrapped up in what I wanted I didn't even think about you..." Soul feels like he should be mad. Like he should be swearing, angry, furious. But he's not.

"I think I get it." He murmurs. "You wanted me to be able to fix things, didn't you? You know how much I hate them and you didn't want me to end up like you. And the other stuff. Well." He cracks a smile, thinking about the most recent of the 'other stuff'. Then the smile fades, and Soul stares up at the ceiling, at a pattern of glow in the dark stars she put up there when they first moved in together. "Always looking out for me."

"But I..." She blubbers.

"You did the right thing. I was the one who acted badly."

"But-"

"Already forgiven." He cracks a smile. "Your line I believe." She's suddenly distracted, not paying attention, finally coming to terms with the enormity of everything that's happened.

"So we just..."

"Yup." He doesn't need to look to know what color she is. The entire room is practically aglow. "Didn't you notice by the time you were-" He begins, a perfect line in his mind.

"Shut up!" She yells, cutting him off. But she settles back into his arms. "Hey, Soul."

"Mhmm?"

"If you say _anything to __**anyone,**_ I'll kill you." And he can't help but laugh. Then, there in the dark, he mimics Liz's gesture from before.

"Shakespeare. And by this point I'm pretty certain you're the only one who will get hurt." She informs him tartly.

"Yeah yeah..." Soul lays back on the pillow. "Tomorrow, I'll go see the family. You know where they're staying?"

"No. I can find out though."

"We're going together. I need moral support."

"Eep!"

* * *

Author Comments: And so I go into the bits not for children. Huzzah. And yet... well. I couldn't really say I'm writing this in character if I _didn't _include that. Let's be honest, it would definitely happen. So you know. All for the sake of realism! Totally. Stop looking at me like that.


	11. Family Matters

Author Comments: It's short, I'm sorry. But I really liked this chapter and I said what I needed to in a small amount of time. Also, I may just have a wee bit of BC calculus to be working on... eh heh...

* * *

Soul is pissed. Like, going to lose his cool kind of pissed, so that he can beat up a certain Meister he happens to live with. His cereal is gone. Just gone. He had eaten the last of it yesterday. Now, in the event that he's out of cereal, they purchase more. This time Maka did the shopping. And she came back. With this.

"Four out of five doctor recommend fiber crunch plus." He growls, reading the box. "Maybe the fifth, _good_ doctor will be open for some emergency surgery." Maka was so going to get it when she got home. Chocolate frosted sugar bombs were sacred, his crunchy delicious god. And she had replaced his god with the bastardized offspring of wood chips and an old sweater. Seriously. That's what these things tasted like. Where was she anyway? Soul was about to test the bond and find out when suddenly the door is flung open, and Maka staggers in.

"Water." She gasps, flopping onto the couch.

"Shit! What happened to you?" Soul hurriedly pours her a glass and passes it over. She downs it in one long pull, and holds it out for a refill.

"Stein. He convinced me to go to physical therapy."

"That... you look like roadkill."

"I smell worse. Showertime." She chugs the second glass and passes it back, heading for the bathroom. A moment later water starts running. "While I was over there I found the address your family is staying at. They'll be here another few days for sightseeing or something." She calls over the noise.

"Great. Is it close?"

"Yeah. You know that really fancy hotel when you take a right from our place, onto Scythe Avenue?"

"Damn. Well, at least we can get room service with our family issues."

"Soul! Think positive!"

"I'm pretty positive this is a bad idea."

"Well, it was your idea to go through with it!"

"And yours in the first place. What's your point." Then he grins. "We are such an old married couple."

"Gah!" Maka yelps, and there's a thump.

"You okay?" Soul calls, amused.

"Slipped. I'm fine."

"So, can we leave soon?"

"Be _patient_ will you? I need to pick out some clothes. And I haven't even finished my shower!"

"Liz and I need to have a talk. Suddenly you're all about freakin fashion. I want my nerd girl back." The water cuts off and Maka storms out, a towel wrapped around her.

"You are so _annoying!_" She hits him over the head, which makes the towel fall off. Because of course it does. "Don't look!" She squeaks.

"Ah c'mon. It isn't anything I haven't seen before." Soul replies dryly. But he turns around while she hurries into her room.

"Ok, you can come in now." She tells him a moment later, poking her head out. "Quick question." She holds up a pair of dress shirts, one cream, one white. "Which should I wear?"

"Oh geez. You really do need help." Soul sighs and pushes his way into the bedroom.

"I'm in my underwear!" The girl protests, hiding behind the door.

"Again, nothing I haven't seen before. Now c'mere." They spend a bit sorting through clothes. Then a while longer looking around in Soul's closet for some of his old stuff. Finally Maka is decked out in a perky, yellow t-shirt with a duck on the front, and a pair of slightly tattered jeans. Those, of course, had been Soul's four years ago. And they fit her perfectly...

"I look..." She starts, looking

"Normal for once."

"But you said you wanted your nerd girl back!" Maka protests, grinning.

"Believe me. I don't need to ask for her back. If we're gonna see my family, I want her gone." It's true. His brother in particular would never let him hear the end of it. Ugh... he was going to see his brother again...

"Oh fine. So. Are we going?"

"Don't see why not." Soul trails behind the girl as she dashes out of the apartment, on absolute overdrive. Wow. She was taking this seriously.

"Hurry up!" She calls perkily.

"Yeah, yeah..." Well, if it were that important to her, he could play along. "I'm coming." Soul slips on his jacket and follows her out, attempting to comb his hair into some semblance of neatness with his fingers. Like that was happening. He was going to look like such a punk. Sighing, Soul revs the bike, Maka wraps her arms around him, and off they go. It's a pretty short trip, and they pull up at the hotel only five minutes later. Maka strides boldly in, Soul at her heels.

"Room two fifteen please!" She asks a bored looking man behind a desk in the lobby. "Tell them it's from Soul Evans." The man punches the number into a phone, puts it to his ear, and mutters;

"Soul Evans calling." He takes a look at Soul. "Yeah. Yeah. Okay." Then he hangs up. "Take the elevator, then head right."

"Thank you!" Maka carols, and drags Soul off.

"You are way too perky." He mumbles as they smoothly rise upwards.

"Oh shush. I'm excited. I... I really want this to work Soul." He can feel her emotions, a churning cauldron of hope and anxiety and inadequacy all bubbling together. The doors open with a pleasant ding, and Soul firmly seizes Maka's hand.

"Emotional support." He tells her by way of explanation. For her as much as him. She smiles at him and squeezes a little, then they head down the hallway.

"Eleven... thirteen... fifteen." Maka counts, stopping at the door and gives a gentle rap on the door. A few year long seconds tick by.

"Should we knock harder?" Soul suggests, just as the door opens.

"Well hello little brother." Says a soft, calm, smooth version of Soul's voice. A person who can only be his brother is standing in the doorway. "Who's the new squeeze toy?"

"Toy! Excuse me?" Soul and Maka demand in unison.

* * *

Author Comments: So the way I write Soul, he always is able to be obnoxious but chooses not to because he's kind of a sweet guy. Sure he indulges a little, but he isn't outright mean. He notices a lot, always absorbing everything that's going on, but he never uses that to be mean to anyone. Wes, on the other hand, is going to be Soul without the safety on. And I am going to have a blast writing ever dickish second. Like having him call Maka Soul's "toy" is just a perfect example. Also, I was debating having Soul's family just show up at the apartment, maybe in the middle of the towel drop, but I decided they simply didn't care about him at all. More evil that way. OK CALCULUS TIME! ANALYTIC PROOFS SHALL FEEL MY WRATH! Rawr...


	12. A Proposal from Tsun

Good afternoon, morning, night, whatever time it may be wherever and whenever you read this. I'm going to start hosting weekly contests for my story. If you haven't read it, ignore this and go read it, dangit! But. I will be accepting any and all pieces of work you all send me (and yes, this is a bit pretentious because to be honest I don't know if any care you care) and I will evaluate the people who I think did the best. Note, I said people. So, there could be more than one. But if you want to send me fan art, writing, an amv, whatever, I will happily view it and get back to you. To submit something, please send all submissions to hummingbirdanime , along with a PM on fan fiction, because who has time for checking a dummy email these days? I will post the winner and work on anything that person wants for a day, which for me represents 3-4 hours.

The theme for the first week is... *dramatic pause* Soul and Maka! Anything related to them. Now fly my monkeys, fly!

(Though I'm honestly not expecting a single response)


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